


Bloody, Bawdy Bill

by inkedintoincognito



Category: Gravity Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkedintoincognito/pseuds/inkedintoincognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out in the woods looking for a monster, Dipper was examining newly-found footprints when something rammed into him from behind.<br/>It was his sister.<br/>There was a second when he was furious, because it hurt.<br/>Then he was terrified, because it wasn't really his sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody, Bawdy Bill

He could see her unsteady steps, her hair untamed and swaying madly side to side as she stumbled up to him, stuttering across the two stairs to the porch.

“Pine Tree!” She-it- called. “Come on out!”

There was blood where she stepped, blood in the corner of her mouth, blood on her forehead and under her nose and on her hands.

There was blood on his hands, blood on his cheek and arm and side, all of which were still burning.

His mouth was dry, fingers tightening on the windowsill, knuckles going white. His sister, his _sister_ , was being possessed by that _thing_.

“You remember what happened to you? Now imagine that I actually want to hurt a puppet!”

His heart began, shockingly, to beat faster, his lungs working overtime but drawing in no air. It was his sister’s voice, his sister’s body, but it wasn’t his sister’s smile, or his sister’s tone.

“You know, kid, teeth really are my favorites. I hate to have them all trapped in this mouth.”

His sister was going to get hurt.

So why wasn’t he going outside?  
“Piiiiine Treeee,” she- _it_ \- sang. “Hurry, or she’s gonna have a twisted smile.”

They were in the woods. In the woods.

“Oooh, this poor canine! Always a favorite of mine-“

In the woods hunting one of his monsters.

“-I’d hate to see it crowed in like it is!”

And then- and then what?

He didn’t know. He turned his back, studying some tracks, and then something plowed into him from behind, knocking the wind out of him.

“Oh, she’s got a good scream!”

His eyes darted up to her- his- eyes, yellow and beginning to grow ever-more cat-like, just as shocking now as they were when he rolled over, only to find himself pinned and looking up into his sister’s eyes that weren’t hers.

He couldn’t breathe.

“It’s getting kinda hard to talk, kid! Too many lost teeth! And those lovely adrenaline chemicals wore off a bit ago- that whole toe and ankle thing is actually starting to hurt!”

And his eyes drifted down to his sister’s mouth, but he couldn’t see anything, there was too much blood, too much red, it was shocking how much red there was, and how _red_ the red was.

His eyes flicked over to her hand, clutching a wire and four small white stones- _teeth_ \- and back up to her mouth, now twisted into some sick smile, the neck of her sweater no longer white, but hues of pink and red.

“The’s screaming tho loudly, Pine Tree,” it said.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t, his mind was lit up, fireworking his panic, and his lungs were not working and he couldn’t let go of the windowsill, even though he wanted to, even though all the cells in his ribs were screaming at him to go save his sister, his best friend, his other half-

-but now the thing outside had stopped smiling, and was doing that jerky walk up to the door, and the knob was twisting and he _still couldn’t move_ and the door

opened

and she fell in, limbs loose and blood dripping to the floor, and there was a horrible, slow blink before her head lolled up and it blinked at him, lips twitching into a scowl, so foreign on her face.

“Well, that was pretty fucking rude, kid,” it said. “I thought you’d do anything for your sister?”

And he was still, still, _STILL_ rooted to his space as it took a step towards him, a soft squelching noise when it put her foot down and half a bloody show print on the floorboards where it had made her step.

And he gagged, his stomach rolling and he let go of the sill with one hand and turned to face her, his throat filled with rocks and his innards filled with acid and his nose filled with the scent of blood as it lunged at him, pushing her arms around his torso and shoving him to the floor, where he landed with a soft noise and a shriek, his head cracking against the wood.

It dove, landing on top of him, and the next thing he knew was a brick hitting his nose and he felt a snap and heard a crack and suddenly he couldn’t breathe, at all, it wasn’t just panic but blood that was suffocating him and he cried out only to choke.

“You’re not gonna fight, Pine Tree?” It asked. She asked? It asked. He was woozy. He blinked, the girl in front of him blurring into two, three different girls.

It. It. It.

“That’s boring.”

Another blow, this one to an eye, and he tried to gasp but he gargled instead and now there were only two girls and pain was radiating out from his head and he wanted to scream-

“She won’t stop screaming, Pine Tree.”

Another blow, one to the neck, but this did nothing to hinder him because he couldn’t breathe anyway. He was choking, his tongue trying to push the liquid out of his mouth, but it was in his throat and it was _liquid, you idiot, and-_

“Make her fucking stop.”

And, distantly, through the haze of pain and the panic, there was a crack and a shock of orange, and then another crack and a spike of orange, and he realized that he couldn’t feel his arm or his leg, and his heart was beating fast, so very fast, echoing in his fingers and ears and he thought that if the suffocation didn’t finish him off first, maybe the explosion of his heart would, and he wanted to apologize to his sister for giving up, for letting her be taken, but he couldn’t.

“Oh, bone snapping is such a wonderful sound!” He heard, but the screaming in his head and the pounding pain and the lack of oxygen muted it.

There was laughter, loud and manic, and another snap, smaller, followed by three, four more, and he wanted to die because it hurt so badly and he squeezed shut the eye that wasn’t swollen closed so that the blackness that was closing in wasn’t as scary, so that the last thing he saw- because he knew he was dying- was the sparks of orange and blue from the pain, and not his sister’s face, twisted and bloody and leering.

And he screamed an apology in his mind, and gagged on his blood again and another firework of orange was the last thing he remembered seeing, a scream the last thing he remembered hearing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry. I was in one of those 'floating uselessly through the black void of a universe' moods.


End file.
